


Rewrite the Stars

by SkylartheGrey



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breathplay, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Contact, Fluff and Angst, Hate Sex, Hey! Don't Judge, I'm trying my best, Knives, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Porn Pretending to have a Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:45:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylartheGrey/pseuds/SkylartheGrey
Summary: Some things never change. Even in an entirely new galaxy, Alec Ryder never ceases to disappoint his children.After being left behind, Sara Ryder is a biotic with a chip on her shoulder. Perhaps, the strange alien she encountered in this strange new world can help with that... in more ways than one.Very mild canon divergence. (NSFW starting at ch.2)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Smut/nsfw content begins in chapter 2! Besitos :*

Things were tense. Sara could see that Scott was growing listless. No sooner had she made this mental observation than he jumped to his feet.

                “Oh, I can’t take anymore of this!” Scott exclaimed.

                Nearly every wary eye aboard the drop shuttle regarded the younger Ryder apprehensively. Never one to shirk the limelight, he paced the limited length of space with outstretched arms and a mischievous grin. With enough sass to curb even the cheekiest of divas, he settled in front of the pair of eyes that were throwing him the deadliest of daggers.

                _Well?_ His posture demanded of her.

                “Ryder, _can_ it.” Cora snapped irritably, “No one’s in the mood.”

                Scott blew air out through his mouth in such a manner that the sound resembled a fart, which was apparently equal in worth to Cora’s attitude. When the biotic gave him a particularly bloodthirsty glare, he shrugged and pivoted on his heel in order to better engage the rest of his captive audience.

                “Alright,” He began “Let’s just discuss the elephant in the room: We all know that Habitat 7 didn’t work out as well as we hoped it would—”

                “It didn’t work out at all!” Cora hissed behind him, “We couldn’t even land on the damn thing.”

                “Alright, sure, that’s true. But, so what? You guys-- we did the impossible! We traveled six hundred years in dark space to get where we are today—are we really going to let _one_ failure drag us all down? We can’t give into despair—if we were the sort that did, we would have never left the Milky Way in the first place.”

                “But that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Liam asked, leaning forward, “One failure just leads to the next. If home isn’t where we thought it was and we can’t get our people out of cryo…”

                Scott’s voice took on a softer tone, “We’ll get our people out, Liam. Just have faith.”

                “But…”

                “No buts, no cuts, no coconuts.” Scott chimed happily, “My da—I mean, the Pathfinder already found us another planet. Just look out the window—no floating mountains or electrical storms, what more could we ask for? All it needs is a swim-up bar, some daquiris, and lovely ladies in string bikinis and we can call this place home.”

                “Not only is this not a context you would _use_ that phrase, you didn’t even say it right.” Cora barked, arms crossing over her chest.

                “Shut up, Cora.” Kirkland sighed, his large hand palming his face. “He’s just trying to help.”

                “Yeah, Cora, shut up.” Scott jumped in, his tone playfully obnoxious. “C’mon Sara, back me up here!”

                _Oh, God.  Scott—WHY?_

When the attention that had previously been on Scott shifted to Sara, her cheeks developed a rosy hue. Willing to say anything that would get her out of the spotlight, Sara licked her lips and stammered, “Uh—uhm. Yeah. I agree with Scott. After Habitat 7, I suppose we could all do with some cheering up.”

                Scott clucked his tongue and shot her dual finger guns, “See? Now that’s what I’m talking about! Why don’t we tell stories from back home? It’ll get our minds off Habitat 7 and will surely beat sitting in this dark shuttle with our thumbs up our butts. Listen, I’ll start. Did I ever tell you guys about the one time I was at a gas depot in the Attican Traverse and I watched some guy’s pet pyjak beat the ever-living snot out of a rabid varren with a miniature baseball bat while smoking a Cuban cigar?”

                “Yes.”

                “Yeah.”

                “Yep.”

                “Eight times.”

                “Damn. That was my best story… Alright… well… uh… oh! Okay, I got another good one. How about the time that I was on an inter-planetary Asari cruise ship and my translator shorted out?”

                “Go for it, kid.” Greer encouraged.

                Scott, eager to please the crowd, bent low and dropped into a dramatic stage whisper, “So— a long time ago… in a galaxy far, far away…”

                Everyone groaned.

                “Oh! For Pete’s sake, quit the foreplay, Ryder, and get to the good stuff!” Kirkland complained loudly.

                Scott pointed a finger at Kirkland, “See? Talk like that is exactly why Stacy broke up with you, man. No pizzazz.”

                At this, a round of laughter broke out at Kirkland’s expense—even the cranky Cora could not help but crack a smile.

                “Fuck off,” Kirkland groused under his breath, “I got pizzazz shooting out from where the sun don’t shine.”

                “ _Anyway_ ,” Scott continues, “So, for our birthday one year, I convinced Sara to go with me on a cruise…”

                While Scott delved deeper into the meat of his tale, Sara’s mind wandered aimlessly. Her gaze had been drawn from the dark compartment they had all been cramped in, to the window, where the fauna of the latest planet they had been exploring zoomed past. All things considered, it had been a miracle that they ever found this place.

                Habitat 7 was just one massive, floating pile of _“fuck that”._

                Pissed that the Hyperion had only narrowly avoided a gargantuan pocket of dark energy, Dad took one look at Habitat 7, with its continent-sized lightning storms, unbreathable argon—nitrogen atmosphere, floating rock formations and all but turned the human ark back to the Milky Way. But, it was no secret that her father had been bred to be a Pathfinder. Within the day, SAM had unearthed an unknown, artificial signal from a distant system that turned out to come from the planet known to the Andromeda Initiative as Habitat 3.

                The brochures for Habitat 3 proclaimed it to be a lush jungle paradise-- and while the reality was no where near as dissonant from the brochures as Habitat 7, it appeared that the astronomers in the Milky Way underestimated just how _lush_ the planet really was. The density of the forests posed such a threat to the integrity of the Kodiak that the entire crew was forced to watch the planet from a bird’s eye view.

                With the turbulence providing a subtle rocking, Sara didn’t realize that her head was drooping with fatigue until the muscles gave way completely and her face smacked the glass with a resounding THUMP!

                It had truly been a testament to Scott’s story that no one noticed that embarrassing stint.

“… Okay, so now I’m at the part of the story that if anyone has a weak stomach, they might want to turn their headsets off because it _only_ goes downhill from here.” Scott warned. Sara perked an eyebrow but said nothing. If he was at this point in the story, then that meant he already finished the part regarding the tuba player, the donkey, and the one-armed jockey.

                Having forgotten her previous enmity entirely, even Cora was leaning in, “C’mon, Ryder! What happened next?”

                “Alright so, my translator’s gone to shit because of that stupid donkey, the tuba-player doesn’t know where he is, and the one-armed jockey is so drunk that thinks she’s the Queen of the Vorcha—”

                The punchline to Scott’s story, involving the Asari maid and the clogged toilet, disappeared into the ethereal as the dividing barrier between the soldiers and pilot slid away, revealing Alec Ryder.

                Cora and Sara were the first to stand at attention.

                The cold, calculating look that the senior Ryder possessed was enough to humble even Scott.

                “That’s enough horsing around. I’m disappointed in you, Scott. I had expected you to take your duty to the mission more seriously. Does it mean nothing that the fate of twenty-thousand colonists rests on your shoulders?” Though the question was directed at her brother, Sara felt Cora shrink with shame at the scolding. Her father stood at the entrance of the cockpit, hands righteously held behind his back as he gave the crew a sobering once-over, “Now, with that being said, we are nearing the coordinates of the tower that our sensors had picked up earlier. If we’re able to keep up this speed, SAM predicts that ETA will be in 15 minutes.”

                “13.” SAM corrected over the intercom. Alec didn’t seem phased by the interruption.

                “Seeing that only an ignoramus would not realize that this tower was constructed by intelligent life, I feel it is prudent we review first contact protocols. Now, if we are in a situation where we find intelligent alien lifeforms, the order is no use of deadly force unless hostile intent is clear. Be respectful. This is their galaxy—”

                “Sir,” SAM interrupted once again. Alec held up a hand.

                “A second, SAM, just let me finish—”

                “ _Alec_ ,” SAM continued, “There are several alien aircrafts approaching our position.”

                At this, everyone scrambled for a view outside. Rising above the thick purplish plumage and glowing phosphorus puffs was at least a dozen T-shaped, vomit-green alien aircraft. The intensity and direction of the unknown shuttles left no doubt in anyone’s minds that the Pathfinding team had been spotted. With a nervous sensation in Sara’s gut, she slipped her helmet on and fingered the grip of her gun.

                “What can you tell us, SAM?” Alec demanded, his eyes never leaving the inbound ships.

                “It appears that they are attempting to put a hold on the shuttle’s navigation system.” SAM warned. Sara detected a muscle twitch under her father’s eye.

                “Looks like they told us where to shove our first contact protocols and how,” Scott uttered.

                This earned him a reprimanding slap upside the head.

                Then, everything turned to chaos as the crew watched the nearest ship’s AA gun light up.

                Though the experimental blow was weak enough for the shuttle’s kinetic barrier to absorb, it didn’t stop the entire crew from being thrown onto their asses. Sara landed atop her father, who unceremoniously shoved her from his person as he regained his bearings. Sara recovered deftly and used her increased speed to assist those that had been struggling to do the same.

                Pretending that her father’s routine disregard for her didn’t take its toll, Sara used the handrails drilled into the roof to make her way towards him as the ship swerved uncontrollably.  

                “Sir, where are we needed?” She called over the commotion.

                “SAM, I need you to open the hatch! Cora, Sara, I know you two want to leap into the fight, but this shuttle isn’t equipped for combat. I want full barriers—all defense. For everyone else, anyone that shoots at us gets shot back. No hesitation.”

                With that, the shuttle’s hatch lifted, and the crew got their first breath of Habitat 3. Cora and Sara took position on both the starboard and port hatches, their combined biotic power perfectly encapsulating the shuttle in a blue bubble. Behind them, the rest of the crew began firing their weapons, the whizzing of bullets a perfect symphony in Sara’s ears.

                In her headset, she could hear her father calling up towards the Hyperion, declaring the state of emergency. The immense expenditure of biotic power meant that she needed to use both hands to guide the mass effect field to do her bidding, leaving her helpless as she watched the orange tinge of gunfire aim directly at everything she held dear. She watched the projectiles flash against the blue of her barrier and bounce back towards the attackers. They were close enough to some of the ships that she could make out some of the aliens: putrid grey with bony protrusions jutting from their heads.

                “That’s my girl!” Her father called. Sara’s heart warmed. She looked over her shoulder to reward him with a rare smile—

                Oh. He had been talking to Cora.

                Her father took a moment from shooting to address the rest of the crew, “Keep up the good work everyone! They’re dropping like flies!”

                He spoke too soon.

                A particularly strong shot made its way through Cora’s portion of the barrier and rammed into their kinetic defenses. Though this too was thankfully absorbed by the ship’s kinetic shielding, the resulting jolt broke Sara’s concentration and she lost her footing. Without anything to anchor her, Sara was tumbling forward out of the ship.

                Just before all seemed lost, Scott caught her by the ankle.

                Sara was screaming, making more noise now than she probably ever had in her entire mousy existence.  The whipping of the wind tossed her flailing body about haphazardly while her brother fiercely struggled to maintain his hold. With each attempt to contract her abdominals and lift herself back into the shuttle, she felt her position slip downward just a smidge.

                “DAD!” Scott called, his voice frantic. With one hand around her ankle and the other around a supportive structure, she could feel Scott attempting to lift her up and into the shuttle, but incapable of summoning an appropriately amount of strength. “We need your help! It’s Sara—she’s!”

                Without Sara’s biotic power to assist in its protection, the ship rocked under the wrath of yet another blow.

                Sara jerked sloppily forward.      

                Scott lost his grip---

                And then, Sara began to plummet.

                Her last view of the shuttle was from behind her outstretched hands, as she watched Scott on his hands and knees at the edge of the hangar, reaching for her.

                “SCOTT!”

                “SARA!” His voice was cracking under the weight of his anguish. “DAD! We have to go back! We need to get Sara. We need to get her! I tried to save her but—"

                The wind and suddenness of her descent had Sara tumbling end over end, making it near impossible to keep her line of sight on the shuttle and hostile aliens. When she finally got her bearings enough to assume the position she had been trained to hold, she was astonished to see how _close_ the ground had gotten in just a manner of seconds.

                Her father’s grave tone in her headpiece turned her blood to pure ice, “There’s nothing we can do for her, Scott. We have to keep moving.”

                “Pathfinder, I believe I should remind you that Sara is still patched into the comm frequency.” SAM warned.

“Dad!” She screamed, “Don’t leave me!”

                There was a static-filled pause before her comm chimed, “I am so sorry, Sara.”

                “ _Please!”_ Tears of betrayal threatened to leak out.

                “Moving to private channel: Sara, I have taken a manual override of your suit’s hardware. I will use the optics from your helmet to deploy the jump-jet at the most opportune moment. However, I suggest preparing for impact.”

                Her heart was too broken for words.

                “Deploying jump-jet in 3…2…1….”

* * *

                Though SAM did everything in its (or rather, her suit’s) power to cushion the blow from her landing, her first contact with solid ground was on an outcropping of solid rock. The momentum from her fall propelled her forward and she was thrown several feet. After the second impact, she heard her helmet crack. She flailed, attempting to find and cling to any surface she could manage, but instead, kept rolling down the hard face of rock.

She didn’t stop until gravity, not her, decided it was appropriate.

                “Fuck!”

                She put every ounce of hurt, rage and shock into that one expletive as she laid on her back, staring up at a sky obstructed by luminous mushrooms, impressive fronds, and thick branches. While the expletive’s vowel was drawn out with her frenzy, her limbs thrashed about furiously. She kicked and beat the wet dirt with every droplet of energy she had. When she had exhausted herself, her entire body went limp in the dirt.

                She activated her mic, “Pathfinding team, this is Sara. I’m alive.”

                _Not that the wonderful Pathfinder cares_ , she thought bitterly.

                She waited.

                Nothing.

                “Pathfinding team?”

                Nothing.

                “SAM?”

                Nothing.

                With a growl, she unlocked her irreparable helmet and tossed it as hard as she could. A nearby thunk told her it had collided into a tree trunk.

                She huffed a great mouthful of moist air.

                There was no point in wallowing in self-pity. _What was done was done. Right? Yeah… right._

                She would have preferred to remain rooted in the spot for just a few moments longer, but the prickling sensation of a tentacle-like object creeping across her ankle and up her calf had her jumping high into the air. She sputtered, rapidly ridding her body of whatever creature had crawled up her leg.

                It had been a vine.

                Thoroughly creeped out, she edged towards her helmet.

                The vine followed her.

                “Stop that.” She told it.

                Dear god. She was talking to a vine. Perhaps she had hit her head harder than she had thought.

                When it continued to follow her, she withdrew her pistol and shot at it, rending it in two.

                The portion still connected to the greater part of the tree, recoiled in response and hissed at her.

                She repeated the information in her head, _the vine_ had actually _hissed at her._ Sentient vines. What had her dad gotten her into?

                She made her way to the shattered helmet and removed the heads-up display. Unsurprisingly, the on-board sensors lit up like a beacon from the abundant flora and fauna around her, but what really caught her attention was a massive source of artificial energy to the west. She followed it, eventually finding herself on a platform with gargantuan, metal… thumb-like structures?

                Cautiously, she neared a console in the center of the platform. She pressed her hand on a pulsating wave of metal rods. It reacted to her touch, interfacing with the nodes in her gloves. She continued touching, willing something to happen as figures and symbols flew across her visor’s display.

                Victory!

                A grinding overhead and the emission of a beam of light revealed that she had accomplished… well, no one would ever be able to argue that she did _something._

However, before she could celebrate this fact, a sound in the distance caught her attention and she cocked an ear to better listen.

                Someone was screaming… and headed right for her.

                Sara turned towards the noise, fingering her gun in preparation for yet another fight with the grey aliens. And yet, as her fingers closed around the holster, a figure broke through the line of trees that was _purple_ and not at all grey.

                It clutched something to its chest as it ran right towards Sara, the scream never ending.

                Sara’s head tracked the movement as the alien looked at the structure, saw Sara, made a confused expression, stumbled clumsily, picked itself up and continued running—all while shrieking at the top of its lungs. The figure disappeared behind the set of trees that Sara had entered from as quickly as it appeared.

                Sara’s eyebrows furrowed. Though she tried to suppress it, she couldn’t help but beg the question, “What the hell?”

                She noticed a gleam in the corner of her eye.

                It looked like a metal carving. Sara picked it up. Was this ceremonial? A personal affect? Just as Sara was pocketing it in her pack for Initiative inspection, she heard an earth-shaking roar.

                If the screaming alien was worthy of a “what the hell” than the monstrosity before her was almost certainly a “what the flying shitballs?”

                Reminiscent of the grey aliens that had attacked her shuttle, the animal was as tall as an elephant and at least twice as thick. When it spotted her with the beady little eyes positioned behind thick, cartilaginous plates, it roared again and prepared to charge.

                Suddenly, running like a bloody fool and screaming at the top of her lungs did not seem like such a strange idea.

                With the monstrosity in hot pursuit, she ran as fast as her tired little legs and jump jet would allow. Her progress was constantly hampered by obtrusive boulders, trunks the size of skyscrapers and curious vines that would snag her ankles. Her lungs burn with the effort and she dared not change course until her heads-up display revealed that there were seven alien signatures up ahead lying in wait. She made a hard left towards the face of yet another cliff, glancing over her shoulder to check her pursuers.

                Screw these aliens!

                Screw her stupid dad for abandoning her!

                Screw this stupid planet!

                Screw this stupid, inhospitable galaxy!

                Screw---

                BAM!

                The collision from running head-on into the purple alien literally knocked the wind from Sara’s lungs. The two of them tumbled atop one another, scrambling to regain their footing. The purple alien managed to get up first and was prepared to take off running when Sara caught its arm. It looked dismayed and attempted to wriggle free.

                “Bad ones,” Sara attempted to say, pointing in the direction that the alien was planning to flee to.

                The alien froze, pointed behind Sara (where she had anticipated running off to herself) and repeated in a feminine voice, “bad ones.”

                Sara’s heads-up display was going mental with all the lifeforms approaching. With the cliff behind them, there was no where for either of them to go.

                “Son of a—" Sara saw the stirring of flora and knew she wouldn’t be able to complete her sentence. She got up, only to promptly tackle the purple alien behind the waist, rolling the two of them behind the safety of an immense rock.

                The purple alien went to fight her, to get away from what must have seemed like hostile intent.

                It stilled when the first bullets battered the rock that it now realized Sara had used to protect them.

                Sara popped from cover, using a _shockwave_ to unearth all the entrenched hostiles that attempted to flank them. They flew into the air like flies after a storm and single _singularity_ ensured that they remained easy prey to pick off with her Phalanx. A massive blast from a grey alien wielding a heavier weapon whizzed by Sara’s head and singed a few hairs. She used a quick _pull_ that lifted him off his feet and _tossed_ him at several of his compatriots, knocking them down like pins before a big, ugly bowling ball.

                Just then, the massive beast entered the clearing.

                Well, shit.

                Her Phalanx clicked empty and she knew she needed to reload. She ducked beneath the cover of the rock and faced the cowering alien beside her.

                “Can you fight?” She shouted over the hail of bullets ramming into the rock.

                Expressive, cerulean blue eyes widened with fear, “No!”

                “Crap.” She commented out loud. The gun hissed violently as she ejected the heat sink. When she prepared to get back to her feet, she told the alien, “When I give the command, I’ll need you to hold onto me. Understand?”

                It nodded.

                Sara popped back up and began filling the fiend up with bullets. It pawed the ground and prepared to charge.

                “Now!” Sara yelled. The alien’s arms wrapped around her midriff just as the beast rammed into the rock, tossing them both off the face of the cliff. Just before Sara and the alien disappeared down the side, Sara unclipped three plasma grenades from her belt and lobbed them into the heart of the battle field. As the two descended, Sara heard them detonate and watched the subsequent dismembered limbs of both alien and animal soar through the air above them.

                The continued shriek of the purple alien in Sara’s ears brought her back to reality. They were falling and fast. Without the enemies to contend with, Sara was able to wind one arm around the alien’s waist and pull it closer. They were about to plunge into a lake. She knew that attempting to break the surface tension of the water from that high of a fall would be the near equivalent of jumping off a building into a flat slab of cement. So, when they reached just the right height, Sara deployed her jump-jet, and encircled the two of them in a glowing ball of biotics.

                They entered the water with approximately the same force as a drunk, overweight uncle cannonballing into the pool at the annual backyard barbecue would. Sara rotated the two of them so that she entered the water first, breaking the surface tension first with her biotic _backlash_ and then her back.

                Water rushed into Sara’s armor, weighing her down and dragging her quickly below the water’s surface. Right as she began to sink, she felt the large hand of the alien grip her wrist and yank her towards the surface. The moment Sara took her first mouthful of air, she swore she would never again taste anything so sweet. Together, the two of them swam for the shore, eventually coming to crawl onto the beach with sputtering coughs and trembling limbs.

                When they were far enough from the rippling waves, they collapsed side-by-side, both far too exhausted to continue for the time being.

                Sara gazed at the alien, whose roving orbs returned the look.

                A smile formed on the mauve lips as the cat-like eyes searched Sara’s face.

                A nervous bubble of laughter escaped Sara’s lips and soon, the alien was laughing with her, both too disbelieving at the strange twist in fate that life had just taken. Who knew that of all the traits to be universal, nervous laughter would be one of them?

                The human’s laughter died immediately when her heads-up display chirped, alerting her to the fact that they were not alone. She immediately rolled on top of the soaking wet alien, tucking its unprotected head under her chin as she whipped up a protective biotic aegis that shielded them from a rain of bullets. At that moment, she saw a lone hostile, clearly a lost straggler, emerging from the brush.

                Sara unsteadily got to her feet, making sure to maintain the barrier. Had she enough energy to produce another _backlash_ , she could have deflected the bullets rather than absorb them, but her stamina was nearly depleted.

                “I need to drop the shield to fight,” She shouted over her shoulder, “Run.”

                She waited for the alien struggle to get to its feet and dropped the shield. She watched it run behind a rock as she had made it do earlier, leaving Sara free to fight.

                With one hand, she yanked the creature off its feet with a powerful _pull._ With the other hand, she released a _throw_ , all while maintaining her original attack. The resulting difference in forces damn near ripped the thing in two.

                Upon completion, she felt the last of her reserves deplete and she stumbled forward, her knee digging into the soft sand.

                There was a rustling in the trees that caught her attention. With her biotic reserves annihilated, she whipped her gun out and shot without looking.

                What she didn’t expect was for it to be alive long enough to shoot back.

                POW!

                A bullet tore right through her shields and slammed into her wrist. Her gun went spinning high into the air, only to land in the water with a gut-wrenching BLOOP!

                She reached in herself, willing her biotics to surface, but nothing took hold. Desperately, she stared about, hoping to spot the bastard that had managed to shoot down her shields and almost definitely broke her wrist.

                And then, a fist collided with her face, knocking her into the ground.

                Suddenly, another alien, resembling the one she had rescued, materialized before her very eyes, straddling her waist and wrapping a gigantic hand around the pale column of her throat.

                The first alien scrambled to its feet from behind the boulder in attempt to wrench the pinker and more masculine of the two off of the human.

                “Jaal! What are you doing? This alien saved my life!” The feminine one cried, her hands wrapping about the masculine one’s considerable bicep.

                The alien known as Jaal fended off Ryder’s ward with one hand, while maintaining his stranglehold on Sara. She was sputtering, unable to make any noise as the hand clamped tighter about her trachea. Her legs kicked in helpless, pitiful spurts and the pressure in her head began to build as the blood pooled towards the surface. Had she any use of her arms, she would have wrenched him from her, but as it was, he had her pinned with his muscular thighs.

                “It shot me, Avela.” Jaal answered in a deep baritone, his sapphire eyes burning into Sara’s reddening hazel ones. Though he was fending off Avela, he was looming over Sara menacingly, dripping his hot, blue blood all over Sara’s skin. She realized that the blood originated from a wound that she must have inflicted to his neck flap.

                “Jaal, please! It must have been a mistake. It—she, I believe it is a she-- just saved me from at least a dozen kett—and a fiend! You must not do this.”

                The hand loosened just enough for Ryder to take a breath. It was a disgusting croak of a thing.

                “You mean to tell me…” Jaal took a moment to gather his thoughts, “that this tiny _creature_ fought off an entire unit of kett by itself?”

                “Yes!” Avela insisted, continuing to tug on Jaal’s shoulder. If he was exerting any energy in ignoring Avela’s attempts, he did a good job at disguising it. “With her blue magic. She was absolutely incredible!”

                Sara wheezed, “Bi-o-tics.”

                Avela and Jaal stared down at the human. Jaal released his hand from her throat entirely but did not remove himself from her.

                “What did you say?” He asked

                Sara attempted to inhale a huge gulp of air that dissolved into a coughing fit. When she finally had enough breath to answer, she hoarsely responded, “Not blue magic. Biotics.”

                Jaal leaned in close enough that he could have kissed her. Sara could only wish that it was lust that he saw in his eyes.

                Rage. Mistrust. Vengeance.

                “What are you?” He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, twisting her head this way and that.

                “Human. I’m human. From Milky Way.”

                “And what…” he asked, “Do you want?”

                “A place to call home.” She answered honestly.

                Jaal snorted, but the amusement did not reach his eyes, “We have heard that before. If what Avela says is true, then you have already met the previous perpetrators.”

                “And what do we have here?” A third voice interrupted. Everyone, Jaal included, jumped at the sound.

                “Akksul…” Jaal responded slowly. It might have been a trick of the strangulation, but Ryder could almost swear she saw him shrink a little, “I have caught an alien. Avela claims it saved her from an entire unit of kett. I… personally watched it rend one in two with just its… boy-yo-teeks.”

                The third alien came into view, clearly just as male as the one on top of her. He prowled in predatory circle around Sara, Jaal, and Avela.

                “Boy-yo-teeks?”

                Avela cleared her throat, coming to a stand between Sara and Akksul. “Biotics. Blue magic. It is what she used to protect me not only from the kett, but from the fall down the cliff. Had it not been for her, I would be dead. Please, I would not see her harmed.”

                “Jaal. You are wounded. I am to assume that it is its work from the position you are in?” Akksul continued. He brushed past Avela, shoving her aside with his shoulder.

                “Yes, though it tells me that it was an accident.” Jaal answered. He shifted off of her. She went to sit up, but Akksul’s booted foot shoved her back down into the dirt. She raised her hands by her head, a universal symbol of submission.

                “You will stay down like a good, obedient adhi, or I will put a bullet in your brain myself.” Akksul warned, “Jaal, you should have known better than to allow an alien to live. They cannot be trusted. But, since it is you that got wounded, I will grant you the honor of disposing of it.”

                “I am unsure if that is something I wish to do.” Jaal answered honestly. “I have many questions.”

                “Now is not the time for curiosity.” Akksul warned, “It is clearly dangerous. The clear choice is to neutralize it before it attacks.”

                “Is my opinion worth nothing?” Avela shouted. She seemed surprised by her own boldness. When Akksul turned his gaze upon her, she flinched momentarily, but then squared her shoulders. “Is this what the Angara are to be reduced to? Bullies and murderers?”

                The former insult was directed at Jaal, the ladder clearly aimed at Akksul.

                “You are overstepping your boundaries, civilian. It is not your duty to concern yourself with the affairs of the Resistance.” Akksul reprimanded. He took a few commanding strides towards Avela, towering over her in a clear attempt to intimidate her into deference. Avela glared at him, unphased “Unless, of course, you wish to be arrested.”

                “Akksul.” Jaal warned, “That is not necessary. No crime has been committed.”

                Akksul opened his arms wide, “Is treason not a crime?”

                Jaal did not answer. Avela opened her moth to protest further, but Sara had had enough.

                “Avela,” She called, testing the name on her tongue. The female glanced down in her direction, expression softening. Sara shook her head, “Not for me. Thank you, but not for me.”

                “Avela! Thank the stars that you are unharmed. After the ambush in Mivataan and your separation, we had---” There was a single gasp, only to be followed by several more in unison.

                “Is that an alien?”

                “Stars above, look at its face!”

                “Oh, how hideous, why have they not killed it?”

                “Look at the stuff on its head!”

                “It has caused Jaal harm!”

                “I hope they let me study it!”

                From her spot, spread eagle in the soft dirt, Sara could discern about two dozen more of the colorful species Avela referred to as the Angara. The crowd clothed in civilian garments reminiscent of Avela’s outfit were being contained by much scarier, armored and armed Angara. 

                Akksul grunted, clearly unamused by the lack of order, “I shall deal with the scientists and contact Evfra. In the meantime, I suggest you make your decision. If you’re not going to kill it right away, at least shackle it so that it does not pose a risk to our people. Avela, I expect you to remain here as well. I am not through with you.”

                As Akksul left to bark orders at the aliens in armor, who in turn barked orders at the aliens in civilian clothing, Avela and Sara simultaneously turned their attentions to Jaal, whose furious glare was reserved solely for Akksul. She knew the look. She had given it to her father just moments before she had been ejected from the shuttle. Dismissed. Talked down to. Unworthy.

                It was only when Jaal was certain that Akksul’s attentions were elsewhere that he returned his focus to her. Before Sara could utter a single word, she was being rolled roughly onto her face with her hands being yanked behind her back. He bound her forearms together with a length of rope and Sara fought a whimper as he manhandled her broken wrist carelessly. When he was finished, he stood up abruptly and abandoned her there without a single word.

                Without the men to interfere, Avela was free to rush to Sara’s side, rolling her off of her face. She lifted Sara by the shoulders, dragging her to a nearby patch of shade and propping her up along a tree.

                “You poor thing, you poor, poor thing.” Avela cooed. She kneeled over Sara’s legs, clasping her hand on either side of Sara’s cheeks. The sudden intimate contact forced a blush to bloom beneath the woman’s purple fingers and Sara glanced away. Avela jerked her hands away as though she had been burned, “Oh no! I hope I did not offend. I didn’t stop to think that your species might not like touching. Angara are free with their emotions, it only seemed natural.”

                 “You did not offend me.” Sara began, but faltered. Her gaze was still over Avela’s shoulders where Jaal had taken residence on a stump overlooking the lake.

                “Does your species not touch frequently? I do not wish to overstep my bounds with my savior.” Avela pressed eagerly, her curious eyes mapping ever ridge and crevice of Sara’s face.

                “No, I mean… I suppose my species… touch—but, I--- my father—distant” Sara took in a shuddering breath. She was not going to discuss her abandonment issues with this complete stranger, “I personally am not accustomed to it. But, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m not used to this much attention.”

                Avela smiled and wrapped Sara into a warm embrace. Sara tensed momentarily, having long since forgotten when someone that wasn’t Scott hugged her. She realized that she was being rude and melted into the woman’s embrace. Without arms, she could do little more than rest her forehead on the woman’s wet shoulder. When the purple alien pulled away, “Proper introductions are in order, I believe. I’m Avela Kjar, curator for the Repository of History on Aya.”

                “Is that what you call this place? Aya?” Sara asked.

                “Goodness, no. This is Havarl, the birthplace of my people. I’m here with the rest of my colleagues hunting for relics of our past—piecing together what my people lost in the Scourge.”

                “Scourge?” Sara asked, nose crinkled.

                “Its… difficult to explain. Perhaps later when everyone has calmed down, I can get one of the scientists to tell you. It’s a massive strand of dark energy, it destroys our ships and—”

                “I’ve encountered it.” Sara nodded sagely.

                “Ah, then you know how devastating it can be. This was meant to be a quick mission, protected by the military, but there was an ambush and I got separated while in the ruins.” Avela confessed. A lightbulb dinged in Sara’s head.

                “You had dropped something. When we first met, I mean. I picked it up. If you go through my pack, it’s yours. I wouldn’t feel right taking it.” Sara stammered, hoping her curiosity would not be mistaken for thievery. She was already sure she had done enough diplomatic damage as it was. With furrowed brows, Avela reached into the pack at Sara’s side and fished through the contents. When she retrieved the metallic figurine, she released a shuddering breath.

                “Stars above,” Avela exclaimed. “It seems you have saved more than just my life, friend. Please, visitor for the Milky Way, may I know your name?”

                “Ryder. Sara Ryder… but, if you want, you can just call me Sara.”

                “Well, Sara.” Avela pressed her forehead to Sara’s own. Though the gesture was foreign to her, she realized that it must have been symbolic for Angara for, a few of the remaining onlookers gasped in shock, “I will be eternally grateful for not only what have you done for me, but my people’s history. I am so sorry that you are in this position because of me and your good heart. I must ask that you find it within this amazing heart of yours to forgive my people. We are naturally distrustful of all aliens after the kett.”

                “They don’t seem too friendly. They shot down my ship.”

                “That seems very much like them. My people and theirs have been at war for nearly eighty years. They have destroyed our government, slaughtered our children and abducted our people. It is not an excuse for anyone’s treatment of you, but it is the explanation.”

                “I would never do any of that!” Sara exclaimed, “I would—that is—”

                Avela silenced her with a look, “I know. But, we must convince them of that.”

                “What’s going to happen to me? I… don’t want to die. Not now.” She said slowly. Avela glanced over her shoulder. “How do I get on everyone’s good side?”

                Jaal had yet to move from his position on his stump. Meanwhile, Akksul had taken to the far side of the limited clearing, his position denoting that he was clearly speaking to someone through his comms. The rest of the Angara, both civilian and military alike, had begun to prepare the camp, apparently unwilling to risk venturing far now that night was approaching.

                “It… would be for the best if you do not think of it in terms of good side or bad side—that is how the kett think… but, your best chance at…” Avela swallowed hard, thinking of the implications, “survival would be through Jaal. He is hurting now, but he has a good heart. He is a good man. If you can get him to see reason, he will spare your life.”

                “And what of Akksul?” Sara investigated further. The last thing she needed was to cozy up to Jaal, the calmer of the two, and end up eating a pound of Akksul’s lead… or whatever their bullets were made out of.

                “Though they do not act like it, Jaal and Akksul are equal in rank. If Jaal makes a decision, Akksul would have to go through Evfra to countermand it.” Avela answered. Her tone had soured with the discussion of Sara’s outcome.

                Sara gave the amicable alien a weak smile to ease the look of worry that now marred her mauve features, “Akksul comes off as a major dick.”

                “A what now?”

                Oh. She hadn’t stopped to think that perhaps this species did not possess penises, “A… uh… phallic object?” she ventured.

                “Oh!” A laugh, “Yes, he is very much a phallic object. To everyone.”

                They settled into an uncomfortable silence.

                Sara chewed on her lip and anxiously watched the man that now held the fate of her life entirely in his hands. He seemed to be deep in meditation, his back straight and chest thrusted forward as he watched the bulge of the waves wash upon the shore at his feet. At least he appeared to be taking the weight of her life into consideration. Her throat pulsed with the reminder of how deadly it would be to underestimate him.

                Underestimate.

                “Avela?” Sara asked. The purple alien looked up, “Can you help me get to my feet? I think I know what I will say to Jaal.”

                “Do you wish for me to come with you?” Avela asked helpfully, hoisting Sara to her feet.

                “No, thank you. But, I will keep your advice in mind.” Sara told her.

                She made her way over to the orchid colored alien, her boots sinking slightly into the soft ground with each step. When she was behind him, he did not look up, too entranced by the beauty of the water in front of him. She was unsure where got the confidence from, but she knew that she could handle him.

                _That’s a lie_. She thought to herself, _you’re confident because he is in the same position you were._

She cleared her throat, “It is gorgeous here.”

                Jaal did not look at her. Instead he grunted. “What is it that you want, alien?”

                She made her way around him, stepping into ankle deep water so that he was forced to look at her face-to-face. With him on the trunk and her standing up, she was able to look him directly in the eye. “I have something I wish to show you.”

                He perked what would have been an eyebrow.

                “I… thought—at first—I would try to use words to convince you to spare my life, but Avela told me of your species’ struggle with the kett.” Sara began, jerking her chin towards the woman.

                “Did she now?” Jaal cocked his head, a new trail of blood was created from the shift in gravity, “She should not have.”

                Sara stepped closer, bolder, “I’m not the kett. I won’t use pretty words to trick you. I see your interactions with Akksul… and, well I have something to offer you.”

                “You mean to bribe my species?” His voice was rising. Angry.

                _Yeek!_ This was not going the way she had hoped. “No, not your species. Just… you. Which, I know doesn’t sound better. But, I see you and…”

                At this she looked away.

                “I see myself.”

                Jaal frowned, “We are _nothing_ alike.”

                “That’s not true. You and I—we’re both soldiers.” She hedged.

                His lips tightened for just a moment, “I suppose that is true.”

                “And we’re both soldiers that are clearly unhappy in the positions we are in.” She continued. This time, it was his turn to look away and she knew that she had just slipped her foot through the door. “But, I also realize what discovering me means to your people. I can offer you something—something that will impress your superiors very much if you keep me around.”

                “And what is that?” He asked, leaning towards her.

                “Information. You see my visor?” She asked. He nodded, “It’s constantly taking footage and storing it in a database in a devise embedded in my arm. I can grant you access to declassified videos of my people, our mission, our goals. Undoctored—from my view.”

                “Or, I could just kill you and take the videos for myself—both declassified _and_ classified.” He warned hotly.

                “You _could_ kill me. But the footage is attached to my omni-tool. Without my memories to prompt it, the videos will die with me.”

                Jaal frowned. He looked at his people fretfully, and she realized he was wondering if he was making a deal with the devil. She chose to sit down on the limited space remaining on the trunk. Jaal seemed taken aback by her sudden boldness, but she stared up into his tired eyes.

                “Hey,” she said softly, “I already told you: I’m not trying to trick you or hide my intentions. My end goal right now is to convince you to let me live. I fought too hard for things to end now, like this. I don’t want to die and more important to you, I don’t want to cause your people any harm.”

                He peered down at her, a scowl on his face. For a few heartbeats, she feared she had pushed too hard and he would reject her offer. But, then. He smirked, “It seems I may have… underestimated you.”

                When she gave him a brief smile, he halted her with his hand.

                “It does not mean I trust you. At all. Do not forget that I watched you. You are dangerous. Very dangerous.” He rumbled, “ _And_ you still shot me.”

                Sara frowned, “I didn’t know it was one of Avela’s people.”

                “That is not possible. I was not far, and I only activated my cloak after I had been shot.”

                She was just about to open her mouth to say that she couldn’t prove her innocence when she remembered her offer. She audibly gave her omni-tool the command to display her videos on his wrist device and they both watched the footage blip into life.

                He watched in silence as the clip began with Sara meeting Avela for the first time when she broke through the line of trees screaming at the top of her lungs. He snorts, somewhat disdainfully, when the camera reveals that Sara had done much the same. For a good minute, the footage is nothing but blurry navy and amethyst shapes as she hurtles through the forest, the sound obfuscated by her labored breathing and wind. He made a displeased rumble, deep in his chest, when he watched Sara tackle Avela roughly, only to silence it when he realized that the roughhousing saved the historian’s life.

                When it cut to Sara fighting, his lips parted. She said nothing, choosing to watch him rather than the events she had only recently partaken in. When she heard Avela’s laughter, she scrutinized his face more intently, knowing what was about to come.

                When he saw her roll atop Avela without a moment’s hesitation, shielding the civilian’s body with her own, his jaw damn near unhinged from the socket. With the kett dead, Sara had been staring at her knees the moment she heard a rustling. The camera remained aimed at the ground, only seeing her hand reach into the holster and pull the trigger without glancing up.

                At this, Jaal finally turned to face her, “I… so, you truly did not see me.”

                “No,” She answered, “I thought you were another kett.”

                “You managed to hit a target without looking with just a single sound.” He puffed out a huge gust of air, “I am… your prowess. You are truly extraordinary.”

                She was reddening at the compliment. She looked away, “Thank you… That’s too much. Thank you.”

                “You claimed that you are not happy with your position as a soldier.” Jaal said. She frowned at the reminder, but remained silent, curious to see where this would go, “Are you not the best fighter of your species?”

                “No,” She couldn’t help but keep the bitterness from her voice, “I’m not even the best fighter in my family.”

                It seemed like Jaal was about to say something further, but they were interrupted by the computerized drone of her VI.

                “Clip ended. Starting previous video.”

                Sara’s heart stopped, “Shit! Shit! Stop autoplay!”

                Jaal’s expression darkened as he restarted the video despite her protests, “What is it that you are trying to hide from me?”

                Sara’s heart was now in her throat, thumping erratically, “Nothing. At least, not from you.”

                “Then why are you suddenly so… this? He gestured vaguely to her now flustered state.

                Her voice was desperate, pleading, “Please, I really don’t—”

                The clip started, and she was forced to relive possibly one of the worst moments she experienced for the second time that day.

                It began with her father complimenting Cora, shortly followed by the blast that knocked her off the shuttle entirely. This time, it was her turn to make small noises as she watched her leg being held precariously by her brother as he pleaded with their father to help hoist Sara back to safety. The camera flares red with the next explosion and suddenly, she’s plummeting-- Scott and safety getting smaller and smaller.

                _“Dad! Don’t leave me!”_

_“I am so sorry, Sara.”_

                Her eyes were glistening with fat, wet tears that threatened to spill.

                Jaal was the first to speak, “I take it… that it is… not common for your species to abandon their children like that.”

                The first of her tears spilled down her cheeks, “Not for my _species_ , no.”

                Abruptly, Jaal took to his feet. He was striding purposefully towards the encampment. He spared a glance over his shoulder at her tear-streaked face. “I have made my decision.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen y'all. anyone that's read my stories knows that I make a lot of dumb jokes, but just to clarify one thing so no one gets the wrong impression:  
> Sara is going to reference a fish from a movie being attractive-- in case anyone misses the joke, it's about the movie Shape of Water, not anything WEIRD, or rather, weirder than a *beautiful* romance between a woman and fish god. 
> 
> Phew, glad I got that one off my chest.
> 
> And now, back to your regularly scheduled broadcast, because if I'm to be a sexual deviant, I'm taking the rest of you with me! (NSFW)

               Sprawled uncomfortably in the frigid dirt, Sara was absolutely freezing.

                In the distance, far beyond the confines of the military tent that the Resistance had quarantined her in, she could hear Akksul continue to argue with the man known as “Evfra” regarding his outrage over Jaal’s decision. She had to hand it to the cruel bastard, he sure could beat the ever-living hell out of this long-since-dead horse. Behind her, the short, annoyed snorts told her that Jaal was just as tired of Akksul’s antics as she. As a vague afterthought, Sara pondered if the yelling had kept Avela and the rest of the scientists up as well—not that she would be able to find out within the near future, with the lower ranking members of the Resistance too terrified by the tales of her “blue magic” to allow her anywhere near the civilians.

                Though the droning of his voice would never quite be out of ear-shot, Sara could surmise he must have been pacing from constant appearance and loss of clarity of the words.

                “…I realize it was only our job to escort the scientists to the historic sites, but… I don’t know how Avela got separated from the rest of the group. It was an ambush, Evfra…. I don’t see why I must honor the decision, it is dangerous. It can kill without weapons! Is that something we....”

                If Sara could, she would have clamped her hands about her ears and attempted to snuff his voice out once and for all.

                But alas, she was still bound.

                And _fucking cold_.

                With her armor long since stripped away by the Resistance guards, she had been in nothing but her soaked undersuit for the entire night. While this might not have been an issue during the daytime, the setting of the sun caused a drop in the temperature that left her teeth chattering like pyjaks on Tuchanka.

                As Akksul went into yet another particularly loud burst, she curled in on herself, a constant shiver coursing down her spine.

                “The chattering of your teeth is nearly as loud as the fool outside.” Jaal commented dryly. She heard him shift restlessly in his cot. Akksul’s had left both of them pissed and cranky. With no one to vent their frustrations out but each other, they were constantly at each other’s throats. Jaal’s voice was so exhausted, she could practically _feel_ the regret washing over her.

                What little blood she had left heated her cheeks, “It’s not something I control.”

                “How do we get it to stop? It is absolutely maddening.”

                “ _Sooooo_ _sorry_ to be a burden.” She bit back sarcastically. He was being obnoxious, and she had had enough shit for one day. “It’s because I’m in a soaking wet suit and its cold and you’re making me sleep on the goddamn ground. Do you have a spare blanket I can use?”

                “No. We did not anticipate having an additional person.”

                “How about the cloak thing? You took it off when you got into bed.” Sara asked, another violent shiver stretching through her.

                ‘It’s a _rofjinn,_ and no, you may absolutely _not_ wear it.” He denied in an offended tone.

                She uttered a guttural growl of frustration, “Then, you will have to listen to both Akksul _and_ my chattering teeth for the rest of the night!”

                “Fine!” He snapped.

                “Fine!” She could hear his sheets rustle as he turned his back to her. She couldn’t help but snicker when she heard a sharp intake of breath when he realized he had turned onto the side that _she shot_.

                The smug sense of satisfaction lasted only as long as the calm between full body tremors. Her teeth continued to chip at one another, and even when she attempted to cease the rattling, she found it impossible.

                She tried to beat the cold by ignoring it. She began to wonder about the fate of her mission. Had her father and brother made it out of the kett attack alive? Were they worried about her or convinced she had died upon impact? Was her father feeling guilty for abandoning her?

                Suddenly, freezing her ass off seemed so much more appealing than her internal monologue.

                “I cannot take anymore of this!” Jaal exclaimed loud enough to make her jump. “If I allow you into my cot, will you cease your teeth clicking?”

                She stiffened at the suggestion, but after the loss of her golden world, the abandonment by her father, the loss of her ability to contact help and subsequent imprisonment, she figured the least she should have to worry about is cold. She would accept his offer. “Yes.”

                He clapped, and a light flickered to life. She watched over her shoulder as he swung his feet over the cot, shirtless, and dipped to a squat beside her.

                “Your clothes are wet.” He observed, “And your lips have changed color.”

_No shit, Sherlock._

“Really? I wasn’t aware.”

                “I will not sleep next to a thing that is both dangerous _and_ wet. You will have to remove the clothes.”

                _Eep._

                “No… I mean, I can’t.” _Won’t_

                She watched him scratch his chin, a deep rumble resonating through his bare chest, “Oh, I see what you mean. The binds… Yes… I will have to remove your clothes myself.”

                _Nope, not at all what she meant._

                But the cold was so biting that she found herself wondering why she cared. He didn’t see her as anything more than an intelligent animal. She saw animals naked all the time in the Milky Way, right? She could never find a fish attractive… except for that _one time_ when she went to the vintage movie theatre. _Damn that Guillermo del Toro for making his fish-monster look so attractive._ She blamed him entirely for her xenophilia.

                He reached over to a pile of his neatly folded items and retrieved a knife.

                She found herself inching away from him like a worm.

                “Hey! Hey! What are you planning on doing with that?” She questioned nervously. “I thought we had an agreement.”

                “Relax,” He assured her coldly. He brought the knife to the collar of her undersuit, “Despite how much I would love to do it just to shut Akksul up, so I could finally get some sleep, I will not kill you.”

                With just a few deft strokes, Sara was left completely naked. She curled in on herself, attempting to hide what little decency she had left with raised knees. He placed the knife near the cot rather than back on the cot, the implication clear: though he invited her into it, he did not trust her in his bed.

                “What is it that you are doing?” He asked quizzically.

                “I’m trying to cover myself up!” She quipped, keeping her head low.

                “For what reason?”

                “Because I’m naked?” She answered incredulously.

                He was placing a hand beneath her bent knees and the other behind her back. He hoisted her up, “Is it considered offensive to be naked in your culture?”

                “Something like that. It isn’t in yours?” She answered.

                “Not quite.”

                He tossed her onto the rickety cot with all the delicacy one might with laundry they throw upon the bed. She bounced a few times and didn’t settle until he had climbed in behind her. She might have questioned the ethics of the situation had the blankets not felt so absolutely _delicious_ as they enveloped her in their warmth. As an added bonus, there was just enough room on the cot for her to wiggle to the edge and maintain the perfect amount of space between their two bodies.

                Just as her teeth stopped chattering and she thought it possible to fall asleep, Akksul’s booming voice came into clarity once more.

                “To allow the thing to live is to willingly permit the destruction of our people. You know more than anyone what the kett have done to us. Where there is one, there are thousands. I say, at the very least, the right thing is to bring it to the Daar and allow the biologists to cut it open to find how it works… To the Void what they think of it!”

                She stiffened.

                “Akksul’s words affect you physically.” Jaal observed again.

                When she didn’t bite at the bait, he prodded her ribs.

                “Human?”

                She took in a shuddering breath, shutting her eyes, “I am afraid to die.”

                “Who isn’t?” He asked. The voice held so much bass, she swore she could feel the bed rumble beneath her.

                She didn’t know how to answer, “It’s time to sleep, Jaal.”

                “Hmpf. Very well, _dangerous thing_.” She was sure he avoided saying her name just to piss her off, though, she also wasn’t sure if she told him exactly what it was.

                She wanted to fall asleep, but her racing mind did not allow her to. As she lost herself to her doubts, her body began to inch backwards, intrinsically seeking out the warmth located in the center of the bed. She stopped only when her bound arms came in contact with the rough skin of Jaal’s chest, her ass and thighs nestled perfectly into the crook of his hips. When he said nothing, she continued to push backwards, despite every cell in her body warning her of the consequences, the primal need to keep warm tempted her to seek out the additional body heat.

                Large hands steadying her hips stopped her mid-wiggle, “Stop.”

                Whatever heat she had stolen from him was allocated to her cheeks. “I’m not trying to— You’re warm.”

                “It’s--- my--- you.”

                Just before he shoved her to other side of the cot, she felt him, hard and ready against her naked flesh.

                Oh.

                _Oh._

                OH.

                “I—what are you going to do?” She asked, somewhat nervously. Her body simmered with the embarrassment from the realization.

                “Nothing!” He huffed indignantly, “As if I would sully myself with someone unwilling. Or, an alien.”

                With yet another miffed huff, he shifted so that he could lay on his back. The change in position meant that his shoulder was now brushing up against her sensitive back. Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the pressure there, the sensation of smooth, warm skin pressing against her own.

                From outside, “Fine! I, too, tire of this argument. Jaal and I shall bring you the alien alive. But, I expect some concessions to be made. If there are more of it, than we must know how they work.”

                It was funny. She was surrounded by people—hell, even lying inches away from a man within his bed, and yet—

                Sara had never felt more alone.

                Tied up. Not only far from home, but in an entirely different galaxy _without_ a home.  Far from her friends and family. Left, rather. What she wanted more than anything now was comfort, for someone to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright.  Her father would scoff at such weaknesses, tell her to ‘man up’. He would also disapprove of her being beside an alien. Chances were she wouldn’t make it until the end of the week. But you know what?

                She thought the words that preempted just about every stupid choice in history:

_Fuck it._

                “Jaal?” She said softly, “What if… What if I wasn’t… unwilling?”

                “I—What? No. Absolutely not. You are an alien. What you are suggesting… it is inappropriate.” He told her.

                 “Oh! Uhm… well… Forget I said anything.” She blurted, attempting to hide the rejection from voice. So much for boldly going….

                She felt him shift behind her again… but rather than facing away, like she thought he might, he returned to his original position. His body was significantly warmer than it had been before, and she tried hard not to fall into the same trap of being lured in by his heat. She had put the offer out on the table and he had rejected it. She feared making yet another move, lest he tire of the trouble and throw her back out onto the cold ground entirely.

                But then his hips flexed, and he ground himself into her.

                At first, she thought it might have been a trick of her imagination, or a mistake on his part. It happened only once but just that one thrust took her breath away. She waited. Much to her disappointment (a fact in and of itself that she found fascinating), he seemed to be restraining himself. Behind her, she felt him fists the sheets tightly.

                Sighing, she snuggled further into the blankets, wiggling her body into a more comfortable position.

                It was shortly after she had settled into her spot that she felt his hips thrust up against her ass once more. She gasped at the contact and the next one came much quicker. This one was followed by his hands, which dug into the flesh of her hips tightly. She let out a whimper but did not protest. When he seemed to realize what he was doing, he let go, stopping the ministrations entirely… however, it wasn’t long before he was returning to the curve of her body to continue the faux sex. It was like his mind and his body were fighting for control—his mind saying one thing, his body yearning for something else entirely.

                The sensation of being wanted, even in this situation, enticed her. She wanted to know what would happen next but feared that speaking up would scare him off again.

                “This,” He breathed hotly in her ear, using a chance to demonstrate what ‘this’ was with the flex of his pelvis, “is wrong. I should not want this."

                His hands were around her waist now, pulling her flush against his chest. A curious hand slid up her body, explorative. When it coasted over her breast, she moaned at the sensation, finally allowing herself to rock her head back against him. He paused there for a single moment, giving the mound an unsure squeeze, only to be surprised when it drew out another moan. He seemed intrigued, but decided his hand was best needed elsewhere. He brought it up to her throat once more, lightly squeezing. His unfused finger under her chin directed her gaze upwards, granting him better access to her ear.

                “We should stop this…now. We mustn’t—I shouldn’t.” He breathed, but the unrelenting pace of his hips against hers showed no sign of slowing down.

                Not willing to risk a chance that he would leave her with every nerve in her body screaming, she ventured her next bold move. With her hands still clasped behind her back, she could do nothing but rock her hips back in tandem with his. He made a noise that sent a fire through her belly. Her toes curled from the unexpected pleasure she drew from his appetite.

                “You” He said, panting from his efforts, “You are very troubling to me. Dangerous, very dangerous.”

                His hand tightened momentarily on her throat, applying just enough pressure so that she choked. “It makes me want to dominate you.”

                Whereas before, it had been terrifying to have him squeeze her there, now it was exhilarating. She felt the heat from her belly flood her thighs, and at long last, she spoke up.

                “ _Please.”_

                He was on top of her in an instant, a heavy thigh between her own as he rocked eagerly against her belly.

“Why would you offer to give yourself to me willingly?” He asked. His mouth was fire against her jaw. When he bit down on the soft junction between her neck and shoulder, she cried out.

                “You want the honest answer?” She asked, her voice thick.

                He stopped what he was doing so that she could think, though it appeared to have cost him a great deal of effort. He propped himself up on elbows planted on either side of her head, “Always.”

                “If Akksul gets his way eventually… I don’t want to go without ever having…” She let the meaning trail off.

                “You are untouched?” he asked incredulously.

                She looked away, “Does it change anything?”

                “No, I suppose it doesn’t.” He reached over her and grasped the knife from earlier. He ran the flat of it against her reddened cheek, the cool metal a drastic difference from the burning she now felt. With blown out pupils, she watched him sit up, straddling her as he had when she first saw him. He felt impossibly large from this angle.

                “This,” he waved the knife between the two of them, “changes nothing. You are still a prisoner of war and I expect you to obey me now and in the future. But… if you are uncomfortable, all it will take for me to stop is your say so. I will not take any more than you are willing to give. Understood?”

                She nodded, lips parted.

                His brows furrowed, “Say it.”

                “I understand.”

                “Very good,” He rewarded her neck with a quick lick. His tongue was soon replaced with the knife and all of the air shot from her lungs, “I am going to cut your binds. If you try to run away, I will kill you. If you try to harm me, I will kill you. If you tell anyone, I will kill you. Do I make myself clear, my little dangerous thing?”

                She licked her lips with anticipation, “Yes, sir.”

                He seemed taken aback by the submission but then he smirked, pressing harder into her. “Sir? Yes… I very much like hearing you call me that. To have you submit to me is… exciting.”

                He pulled at her shoulders, lifting her torso off the bed. Her face was pressed into the strange protrusions that would have been his clavicles had he been human. She felt his knife wiggle beneath the ropes and snap her bindings. She was free.

                Before she could figure out what she would do with her newfound freedom, he was rolling onto his back, pulling her with him. Her injured hand wailed in protest when she dared put weight on it, so she was left with using her forearm against his bicep for stability. He took her unoccupied hand and guided her to his clothed erection, thrusting upwards when she palmed him. With his hand over hers dictating the rhythm, she began to stroke him in earnest. When she tightened her grip just so, she felt him throb between her fingers.

                Feeling emboldened, she dragged her fingers to the hem of his pants and slipped beneath the fabric, taking hold of his length properly. He fucked her hand and she wished he would do the same to her, but she was too timid to make the request. Instead, he focused his attentions on her breasts, having remembered the small noise it drew from her earlier.

                He pinched her nipple, drawing a cry out.

                She pulled herself away slightly, out of his grasp. He frowned at her. “I’ll make more noise if you keep doing that. What if someone overhears us?”

                He touched a hand to her face, his thumb tracing her lips. She parted them slightly and darted her suggestive tongue out against his finger. He suppressed a groan and took the invitation to invade her mouth.

                “That would not be… optimal…” He conceded as she sucked his finger, “Perhaps… but, I think I just discovered a better use for your mouth. I want you on your knees and to get rid of this.”

                He jerked his chin towards his hips. He removed his hand from her face and she chewed on her lip. She rolled on top of him, tracing her lips and tongue across his skin. He used one arm to prop his head up, the other reaching down to fondle the mop of black curls on her head as she gradually made her way down his body. When she settled between his legs, she hooked her fingers in his waistband and gave it a good yank.

                He was… much larger than she had anticipated, both in girth and length. It was the same shade of pinkish purple as the rest of his body, only with thick white ribbing on the underside and a bulbous head. Upon closer inspection, she could see a bead of precum beginning to form.

                She bent her head down, her eyes trained on him the entire time. She watched his expression as she licked him clean. The hand in her hair tightened, scratching her scalp and she _loved_ the way he crumbled beneath her. Before she continued, she gripped his base, stroking gently.

                “I want to please you,” she recalled what he said earlier and remembered to add, “ _sir.”_

                His hips jerked frantically, seeking her mouth. She was about to comply when he gripped her chin and forced her to face him.

                “Again. Say it again.”

                “I want to please you, sir.” She repeated. Her tongue dragged along his length while her hand continued to pump, “I want to know what it feels like to have you pulsing in my mouth, down my throat.”

                It was the last sentence that seemed to be his undoing. He gripped the back of her head and urged her to take his cock into her mouth. He pushed until he had hit the back of her throat, the sensation of her lips and tongue working along his length causing a sharp inhale. After adjusting to the intrusion, she sucked harder, her mouth following her hand in an endless cycle—Up. Down. Up. Down. Each time his head hit the back of her throat, she fought the urge to gag around him. Every so often he would meet her halfway, seeking more of the pleasure she offered. She stimulated herself by dragging her sensitive bundle of nerves against the slick skin of his thigh, matching the pace of her hips with her mouth.

                “More,” He demanded roughly, “I want you to take all of me. I wish to know what it looks like when I fill your throat.”

                She did as she was told, and when he invaded the delicate passage, she found it difficult to breath. She went as far as she was able, until her eyes watered from the effort and the contracting muscles in her neck involuntarily fought to expel him in favor of air.

                “Very—Mmnn!—Good. Very good.” He encouraged, his fingers tracing the shape of him in her throat. When her muscles convulsed around him, he threw his head back and groaned. She knew she had had enough when her vision began to tunnel, and her head grew light. She immediately withdrew, blinking away the bursting stars, but found that the feeling was… actually not at all unpleasant. A very pleasant tingling sensation had spread throughout her entire body, but because she had withdrawn so quickly, its effects did not last long.

                She realized she was now wetter than she had ever been in her entire life.

                “I want to do that again.” She made it sound like a request.

                He licked his lips, “You enjoy me taking your throat?”

                She nodded, a slight sex daze muddying her thoughts.

                He granted her request by pushing the back of her head, “I will savor filling you with my seed.”

                It was a promise that had her shiver not from cold, but from excitement.

                Knowing she needed to catch her breath before attempting anything again, she resumed her previous pace: following her hand with her mouth and rutting shamelessly against his now slick thighs. When he grew careless with his moans, she realized he was getting close—and that she wasn’t far behind. She amped up the pace, watching his back arch from the pleasure she gave him. His eyes were screwed shut, his heads thrown back as one hand crumpled the linens and the other remained embedded in her hair.

                “I’m close.” He said this as though it was a warning.

                She increased the rhythm, lavishing his bumps and ridges with her lips, worshipping them with her tongue.

                “If you keep it up… I will… Stop, or I’ll—"

                This time, when she took him into her throat she managed to take all of him. Her hips continued to rub against his thigh and the heat began to build—building, building, building…

                As her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, another wave of erotic tingles soared through her body. She swallowed around him and it seemed like she had finally reached Jaal’s tipping point. With a cry, his erection throbbed in her throat. He held her against him, hot seed spurting into her with each pulse of his climax. The sensation was all she needed to follow suit and she pressed herself hard against him, her own orgasm slamming into her.

                She eased off of him and collapsed on top of his body. They laid there, panting in unison. Hesitantly, he put his arm about her shoulders and, after a brief pause, gave her a comforting squeeze. She felt like she needed to say something… anything.

                “So…” She began, looking up into his too blue eyes, “that was an unconventional way to warm me up.”

                He chuckled, “I am not sure whether it is a consolation, but this was not at all what I had in mind when I brought you into my bed.”

                She tutted, “And what would the great Akksul say if he knew? Jaal, the sexual deviant. The _scandal._ ”

                Jaal grunted, “I think he would be more upset with what I am imagining I will do to you next.”

                Her brows furrowed, “What do you mea—”

                She squealed as he lifted her up and forced her to straddle his hips.

                “I am curious to find out what it feels like—” His hands drifted to her waist, pushing her wetness against his still hard shaft “—here. Inside you.”

                She steadied her good hand on his shoulder, “You want to go again?”

                His head cocked to the side, “Unless you object.”

                “Not a bit.” She answered with a bright smile. He beckoned her closer and she complied willingly.

                He ran his tongue along the length of her neck, stopping only to nip at her earlobe sharply.  His hands on her ass encouraged her to continue what she had started against his leg, coating his length with her slick folds. She moaned gently for him, which seemed to only further excite him.

                “Had it been any other case, I would enter you from behind. I would take your body while you were bent, on your hands and knees… but,” he paused as one of his hands traveled to her breast. He seemed perplexed once more as he gave it another experiment squeeze. When it elicited a pleased sigh, he continued, “But since you are… untouched. I want you on top. It is my desire to watch your face as you are taken for the first time and I want you to know that it was me that did it.”

                Between the dirty talk and the building pressure between her thighs from the friction, she was an incoherent mess.

                When she was ready, she lifted her hips up. He lined himself up at her entrance, stroking the seam of her sex with the head of his member. When she attempted to lower herself onto him, she was halted by his clenched fist encircling his length. She gave him a frustrated scowl, but he responded only with a teasing smile. She attempted to push down, but he gave no leeway.

                She released a frustrated gust of air. “What?”

                “Tell me what you want.”

                “Excuse me?” _She was naked and wet on top of him, it was clear as day what she wanted._

                “Tell me what you want.” He repeated.

                She pouted like a goddamn child, “I want it.”

                “It? Or me?”

                She gazed into his eyes, “You, I want _you_ to fuck me. I want to finally know what it feels like to have a man inside me”

                He allowed her to slip down slightly.

                It was only a testament to how wet she was that the movement was so fluid. The two of them gasped at the sensation, and she was forced to hold on to him lest she keel over. Her walls clung tightly to him, as though pleading with him to never leave and the feeling that lanced through her had her head bent over him.

                This time it was her turn to beg, “More, please, I need to feel more of you.”

                “I will only take the rest of you when you can look at me as I do,” he commanded. She leaned back, and he provided support by bending his knees. Slowly, ever so deliciously slow, did he allow her to sink down on his hard length. She watched his face the entire time, enjoying the subtle twitches in pleasure as her body stretched to accommodate his girth and the entire experience was significantly more intimate that anything she could have expected.

                When at last he had bottomed out inside of her, they both took a moment to throw their heads back in ecstasy. He granted her time to get used to the sensation before lifting her hips and slamming her back down. His eyes roved her body and she noticed his pupils dilate as he drank in the sight of her sex stretched nearly to the breaking point around him.

                For a while, she was content to allow him to set the pace. He had not taken advantage of her newness to the act and seemed to know how to thrust inside of her so that he hit her _just_ right. When she felt confident enough, she took the reigns and began to move her hips against him.

                “Dangerous thing,” He panted against her cheek.

                She couldn’t pinpoint why, but she was beginning to consider it a term of endearment.

                She squeezed her walls around him and felt him jerk inside her.

                “Dangerous thing,” he called again, “Your body feels too good. I am—I am afraid I will not be able to last much longer.”

                “Neither will I,” She whispered.

                “Do you like how I stretch you?” He asked.

                “So good,” She moaned, taking him to the hilt.

                This seemed to please him, “Than take your pleasure in me.”

                Oh, she was already doing that and then some. Her hips continued to rock against him, but she now tantalizingly dragged her hand down the slopes of her body. His eyes upon her were like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey. Her hand found its destination between her thighs and she began to circle her clit with the tip of her fingers.

                At this, she felt the crack of electricity. It zoomed up through her core and spread throughout her body in orgasmic tingles.

                She yelped and stared down at their conjoined bodies.

                “Why did you stop?” He asked, his voice husky.

                “Something shocked me!” She exclaimed.

                “Your species does not possess bioelectricity?” He seemed absolutely baffled by this fact, however, his confusion did not stop him from bruising her hips and plowing into her.

                “No,” she answered, “But it feels _amazing_.”

                He chuckled, and she felt yet another snap, this one smarting the delicate flesh of her thighs.

                “If you were Angara… it would increase your… _ahem._ Fertility. It would ensure that my seed took hold inside of you.”

                She was flush against him, returning back to the swing of things. She breathed out a laugh, “Good thing I’m not Angara than.”

_Ha! Take that biology!_ If she stuck to aliens, she would never have to worry about spending another paycheck on birth control. Who said she never looked on the bright side? When she met his gaze once more, she found that his focus was absolutely trained on her abdomen. His palm grazed the flat plane of her stomach.

                A particularly strong jolt in her clit made her forget why this fact should concern her.

                “I’m close.” She whispered longingly.

                “Sing for me-- my beautiful, dangerous thing.”

                Another slap of electricity and she was cumming, a scream nearly ripped from her throat. To muffle the sound, she bit into his shoulder, digging her teeth into the flesh.

                The shockwaves of her completion had him desperately chasing his own release, and with a couple of abrupt, relentless thrusts, he spent himself inside her and as he did, a massive wave of electricity washed over them both. She could feel him filling her with each twitch of his body.

                Depleted of all her energy, she collapsed bonelessly against him. Being far too exhausted to seek a more appropriate position, she instead chose to bury her face into the crevice created by his strange clavicles. She indulged in the soothing sensation of the rise and fall of his chest as his breath teased the tight curls of her hair. If this arrangement made him uneasy, he made absolutely no effort to push her aside.

                No, rather than refuse her, he wound his arm across her back so that he could press her head tighter to his chest. She was so close to him that she could hear the fluttering of his heart like a hummingbird trapped within his ribcage. It took her by surprise when she at last heard him speak and there was no underlying aggressiveness—no mistrust, no revulsion, or insatiable lust.

                “You do not have a mate?” He inquired, his voice sluggish from the sex.

                “A mate? You mean boyfriend? No, I… almost. Once. But no.”

                She felt his bass reverberate throughout his chest as he hummed in agreement, “I see. You had a suitor that did not match your caliber, so you spurred his advances?”

                She laughed, “Not even remotely close. Tiran was never… Err… the “suitor” never knew it, but he was the only person in the Milky Way besides my brother and mom that made me feel…. Wanted. _Desirable_. But, I was too mousey, too _not_ turian.”

                “I am afraid I do not understand. What does that word mean?”

                She yawned through her answer, “Another species from my galaxy.”

                “Are there a lot of species from where you originated. And you all live… harmoniously?”

                “Yes,” She snorted at the second question, “And more or less. There’s always a few assholes that ruin it for everyone else.”

                “And this _turian_ ,” he pronounced the word slowly, “Did you leave him behind in the Milky Way?”

                “No, he’s actually one of the very few that chose to come. He’s here--Provided the kett haven’t gotten to him, of course.” She answered with yet another yawn.

                 He seemed to mull over the answer to this and the implications that it meant. There was a long, pregnant pause before he could find another question to ask her.

                “Do you regularly hold affections for species that are not your own?”

                She didn’t answer this question. Displeased with this outcome, he jostled her slightly and cocked his head to inspect her face.

                She had fallen asleep in his arms. This human, this dangerous thing—a being so powerful it could rend a kett in two with nothing but her mind and accurately shoot without looking—she had chosen to fall asleep with her petal-soft lips pressed against his heart and her strange head-coils draped artfully across his chest.

                When she shivered and pressed her soft body firmly against him, Jaal sighed and tucked his blanket tightly around his dangerous and delicate thing.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just call me FlufflePuff

                Jaal could not fall back asleep.

                The tumultuous past few hours were making it impossible to do so.

                And yet, somehow, the thing on his chest was nearly comatose. Any attempts to dislodge her had failed miserably, even with the injured appendage.

                An alien. A wound. An army from the Milky Way. An adversary.

                Sex.

                Whether the adversary was Akksul or the alien from the Milky Way army that wounded him and subsequently had sex with… was…. Unclear.

                But.

                But, what?

                She was an alien and Akksul was Angara, _of the civilized people_ —the line between friend and foe should not be so difficult. Akksul was being arduous and his dangerous thing was quite….  amenable. Especially given the fact that her information would do more for him promotion-wise than any arduous trek through the Havarl jungles with historians ever would. However, any sort of physical movement shot a jolt of agony through him that served as a reminder as to what could happen should she prove to be less…. amenable.

                Beneath his chin, his ‘unclear’ enemy was whimpering in her sleep. This round of whining was just as unpleasant as the rest had been: a pathetic noise, followed by a sharp twitch between his thighs as one her legs jerked against him and her facial features scrunched together.

It was the same expression she had when they watched the video of her plummet.

                Jaal groaned. If he was not to get any respite, then the very least he could hope to do was be productive. With the arm still draped over the slumbering alien’s blanketed shoulders, he activated his wrist device and flicked through the file containing all of the videos he had downloaded from her visor before Akksul had confiscated it with the rest of her belongings.

Jaal had to admit that he was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of videos he had to choose from. He decided to go at random.

                The majority of the videos were mundane in nature, though they did reveal much about this “Andromeda Initiative”. There were a countless number of meetings, displays performed in both massive auditoriums and claustrophobic rooms, drills for flight and fight, as well as paperwork—all from her perspective. These vids provided a significant amount of useful intel that he subsequently sent to the Resistance… but, the videos he found himself hoping for the most, were the ones that provided a glimpse of life in the Milky Way… specifically, _her_ life in the Milky Way.

                For… intel purposes… of course.

                He couldn’t use the flick and click method to find these videos of her-- these rare windows into who she was—they were just too far and few in number with her life seeming to revolve around work. In order to find these little treasures, he had to use the file’s organization feature, starting from the oldest videos first.

**VIDEO 0001**

_The camera was jostled slightly as the alien placed it onto some sort of dark surface within what was clearly a bedroom. The room was adorned with a simple yet elegant bed, a few paintings, and a television playing a show that an announcer called “Heartwarmingly: I Love You”. Once she had arranged the visor to her liking, she sat on the edge of her orderly bed and waved to the camera._

_Her smile was…._

                 Jaal felt a knot in his chest tighten.

_“GooooooooooOOOOOD MORNING, VIETNAM!” She called cheerfully into the camera. “Hi, everyone, well. Not everyone, this camera’s just for me and you, but--- Argh! Screw it. Redo!”_

_She got up from the bed and the image cut to black._

 

**VIDEO 0002**

_“GooooooooooOOOOOD MORNING, VIET-GNOME!”_

_There was a pause._

_“Motherfu---!”_

**VIDEO 0003**

_“GooooooooOOOOD MORNING VIETNAM! This is my test run using the prototype that you made me. Since you told me that you wanted logs of how I’m adjusting to it,” She slapped her thighs before holding her hands out in an explanatory manner, “here are the logs.”_

_“The heads-up display is shit. It’s great that it can detect stuff, but c’mon. How can you seriously expect me to shoot anything if I can’t **see** anything? Are you crazy? But, all of the features on it,” She made a face that Jaal couldn’t interpret and formed a circle with her thumb and pointer finger, “You killed it. You did your sister proud. This visor should make the _ absolutely arduous _task of peacekeeping in the Traverse a lot easier.”_

_“Ahh… Okay. Hold on a second”_

 

**VIDEO 0004**

_“Son of a--- Damnit. Hold on.”_

 

**VIDEO 0005**

_“Scott! Make it easier to_ stop recording _.”_

 

**VIDEO 0006**

_“Just wanted to say that I didn’t realize it was voice activated.” Her face was extremely close to the camera, clearly, she was holding the visor up to her face. “Scott! Voice activated! That is some good shit!”_

Jaal decided to skip around.

**VIDEO 0064**

_The camera was positioned on the ground, aimed at a dark hardwood floor, a white door, and cream color walls. For a few seconds, nothing happened, and Jaal was prepared to switch off… when a burst of music bloomed._

_DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN NA NUH-NUH_

_The alien came sliding into view in nothing more than a pair of white socks and a thigh-length pink top that left most of her legs bare. Her back was to the camera._

_DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN NA NUH-NUH_

_She swung around to face the camera, in her hand was a cardboard tube labelled “PRINGLES”, which she held up to her mouth as though it were a microphone. As the music swelled into bloom, she danced to the beat. When the music amped up, her dance moves grew significantly more aggressive and dramatic and it made Jaal’s heart sing to see the woman sleeping on his chest look so… unhindered. Just when she got into the swing of things—_

_The door opened._

_She gasped in horror, clasping her hands over her face. Jaal realized he recognized the man entering the apartment as the same one that had held her leg in the other video._

_“Goddamnit Scott!”_

 

**VIDEO 0065**

_The camera was still positioned on the same dark, hardwood floor. Again, nothing happened, until the now familiar jingle erupted-- this time, it was significantly louder than before._

_DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN NA NUH-NUH_

_The alien and her brother came sliding into view with their backs to the camera. They both wore the same uniform of a thigh-length, light-pink button down top and white tube socks._

_DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN NA NUH-NUH_

_The two humans swung around to face the camera, but the female’s appearance had changed slightly. Her strange head coils were tied off in a sloppy hairstyle at the side of her head and she wore a thick pair of black sunglasses that matched the male’s. She had also replaced the tube labelled Pringles with a dark green bottle of what appeared to be alcohol. When the dancing began, the two siblings clinked glasses and moved with the sort of…. enthusiasm that was reserved solely to the inebriated._

_The entire song played out and the video only ended when the brother swung around so that his posterior took up the majority of the frame. He dropped into a low squat with his hands positioned on his knees and began to move his hips in such a manner that the movement jiggled his hindquarters erratically._

_Though it was difficult to see past the questionably mobile buttocks, what intrigued Jaal most was the effect that the male’s antics had on his sister. In the very corner of the screen, he could see that she had collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggle so potent, she was forced to grip her stomach just to weather it._

 

 

**Video 0074**

_Immediately, Video 74 was unique in that it was the first of the earlier videos to be adjusted to be taken from her perspective. It was also shot from a location other than her apartment… unfortunately, the new scenery was less than impressive. If the majority of the Milky Way looked like this, Jaal couldn’t blame the aliens for leaving. The surroundings were entirely barren, the land nothing more than a vast expanse of massive planes of rocks set into a red surface. The only thing interrupting all of the nothingness was a rather impressive-looking, metallic outpost that grew larger with each step._

_The camera stopped a few paces away from the building. Just beneath the camera’s lens, a hand wandered into view. When it came back into focus, the palm was filled with blood. A sniffing sound followed, and a tissue was procured to wipe away the remaining fluid. Once satisfied, she continued onwards toward the metallic structure._

_The main hold of the outpost, a cramped office filled with papers, blinking tech, and other strange objects, could only be accessed after tapping a code into the main gate and entering a pressurized chamber. In the dead center of all the chaos was a clearly aging human male, seated behind a desk littered with work-space debris. A hand shot up into view as the female human saluted—an action that came as a shock to Jaal. He had figured, if anything, everyone would salute her._

_“Sergeant Powell.”_

_The balding man didn’t even bother to glance up as he waved a dismissive gesture towards the rickety chair opposite him, “At ease.”_

_“You requested me?” She was using that timid way of speaking again. After viewing the videos of her speaking to her brother, he had assumed that the quietness of her person was a product of the situation she found herself in, but this suggested otherwise. She seemed to be sniffling more than usual._

_The man closed a manila folder, staring down at her intensely from behind wire-rimmed spectacles. He had bags under his eyes, “We got a lot to discuss, Ryder.”_

_The back of her hand was brought up to the edge of the camera, swiping at her nose—and there was a distinct streak of red blurring at the edge of the camera’s view, “Am I in trouble, sir?”_

_The man cocked his head in an unamused manner, “You know good and goddamn well that you aren’t in any trouble. After the shit you pulled last night at camp, you’re a goddamn hero.”_

_“I was just doing my job, sir.”_

_“Just doing your job at your rank is taking a couple of potshots at the batarians while waiting for the big guns to arrive. From what I heard before the cavalry came in, is that you brought down a pirate ship without firing a single bullet.”_

_She answered with a single sniff._

_“And quit the goddamn sniffling, the cat’s out of the bag. You’re a biotic and should be goddamn proud of that blood.”_

_There was a feminine chuckle and suddenly the constant snuffles ceased. A crumpled, blood-stained tissue manifested, “I think I went one pirate ship too far with the dramatics, Sarge.”_

_The man snorted, getting to his feet, “Does anyone else know?”_

_“About the biotics? I guess just everyone at camp but…”_

_“Not the biotics, the hemorrhaging. This is the Alliance, kid, we couldn’t give a damn about your biotics, so long as you use them on who we say to use them. Does anyone know about the bleeds?”_

_“No. I didn’t want to worry anyone.” She answered softly. Her tone turned slightly bitter, “The medics have more than enough to deal with without worrying about me.”_

_“Hey, hey. None of that. You did a damn fine job, biotic or not.”  The man rummaged through a shelf until he was able to retrieve a wad of paper towels. He handed them over to her before taking his seat again, “I thought the L3 implants made it so that you kids would stop bleeding every time you entered combat.”_

_She twinkled her fingers sarcastically, “L2”_

_From the way that the man’s jaw dropped, Jaal could tell that this was a bad thing, “What slack-jawed, nug-humping asshole greenlit implanting someone your age with an L2? Between the anti-Biotic movement and the L2 side-effects, that’s a death sentence.”_

_Her tone was bitter once more, “My father.”_

_For once, someone other than the female had their cheeks bloom red, “Well, fuck me sideways.”_

_“You didn’t offend me. I haven’t spoken to him in years.” This was softer, complacent._

_“Speaking of your father… er..” he looked down at the manila folder he had closed earlier, “What I mean to say is that… I was looking through your file. It’s impressive, not a single bad mark.”_

_“You’re being too kind.”_

_“Kindness is for your grandma and the pansies down at C-Sec Academy. We’re in the military. We don’t say anything nice until you’ve rescued a bunch of orphaned kittens from a burning building while simultaneously fighting a thresher maw and some geth—Just ask Shepard. But… debating compliments isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. I just… how do I put this? Well, how are things going?”_

_“Aside from the never-ending threat of batarian slavers, raiders, pirates, and the biotic bleeds?”_

_“Yes, aside from the never-ending threat of batarian slavers, raiders, pirates and biotic bleeds, smartass. How are things…. getting on?”_

_“Getting on, sir?”_

_“You heard me.”_

_“It’s an excellent post. I find my work engaging just as much as I find it rewarding.”_

_The balding man leaned forward, “I’d like to say that this is off the record, Ryder. No need to hold back.”_

_The camera quivered erratically, the human was shaking her head. Her voice grew more impassioned as she spoke about her work, “There’s nothing to hold back. I love my job. The scientists are all wonderful people and I am honored that the Alliance has hired me to protect them. The fact that I get to play even a small role in helping find more about the Protheans… well, it’s exhilarating! I can’t even complain about my bunkmates.”_

_She seemed to deliberate on something before leaning forward, “If I’m to be completely honest, sir: whenever I finish a shift, I like to go down to the sites and spend time with the brains and hear what they have to say. I know it’s a little unprofessional, but sometimes they even let me lend a hand in the digs. Dr. Silva says that if I ever leave the Alliance, that I should consider a career in archeology.”_

_The human seemed to stiffen, “Did… Dr. Silva… say anything else… about leaving the Alliance?”_

_The camera churned, as though she had cocked her head. “No… Sarge, with all due respect, this feels really strange. Did I do something wrong?”_

_The man couldn’t look at her anymore. His gaze was firmly planted on the manila folder, “No and that’s the issue. You’re a model soldier in every way.”_

_“Sir?”_

_At this, the human violently ripped his spectacles from his face and began rubbing the edges of his temples, “Listen, Ryder… Sara—That’s your first name, right? Sara, this isn’t easy for me. I’ve seen privates come and go over the years, but--- well, let’s just say that after what happened last night, I would have shipped your ass right off to Rio for N7 training right away—if it was my choice. But it isn’t.”_

_“I... am very confused.”_

_“Just… Just know that when push comes to shove, none of this was my idea. It ain’t right. It just ain’t right. I tried my best for you, kid. I tried, I really did. It just ain’t right.”_

_She got up from her chair roughly, “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”_

_He glanced up at her and very quickly glanced away, “I’m so sorry, kid. Take some more tissues. You’ll be needing them.”_

**VIDEO 0075**

_This setting and perspective of video 75 were the exact same as video 1, but… everything was… wrong._

_The walls, the floor, and furniture were stripped bare of all the life that the human had breathed into the space. Even she, seated at the edge of her completely stripped bed in stained pajamas, seemed to have been dimmed of all her light. The curls were significantly frizzy and deflated, the skin beneath her eyes were marred with bruise-like circles, and the normally pale skin between her nose and chin was now stained a rusty color from dried, smeared blood._

_When she looked up into the camera, the sorrow in her eyes was thick enough to shatter every piece of Jaal’s heart._

_“Hey, Scott.” She started. Her voice quivered and quickly broke off. Her eyes darted upwards towards the high hats in the ceiling and Jaal could see the flicker of tears straining to break free. She ran a hand through her dull hair and exhaled a long breath._

_“So… It’s officially been one week since the Alliance decided to relieve me from duty. It’s funny how that date just so happens to coincide with the day that Dad fell from their graces, isn’t it?” She cocked her head, an uncharacteristically caustic smile on her lips. The expression lasted only a moment before softening, “I know you’re not ready to talk about any of this yet. From what I heard, you only lasted a week longer than me. I blame biotic prejudice, it was easier to fire someone like me than you.”_

_A layer of blue swirled around her. She closed her eyes and Jaal noticed the controlled rise and fall of her chest as she attempted to breathe her emotions out. However, before she could reach the apex of her meditation, a nearby bottle of water abruptly exploded in a flash of blue._

_A single trickle of blood leaked from her nostril._

_She sighed, extracting a damp cloth and mopping the mess with her foot, “That’s the fourth one today, too.”_

_“You know, my neighbor has been really amazing through all of this—saw Dad on the news and has been offering me a hand with the packing. Kandros, that’s the name… I’ll have to remember to buy something nice as a thank you present before I go… Said I should think about talking to someone about it… But, I guess you know more than anyone else that a doctor doesn’t exactly factor into the budget right now… So… I’ll have to make due with this: vid messages and…” She looked down at the puddle she hadn’t finished mopping up, “blowing up undeserving water bottles.”_

_“This is just like him, isn’t it? The two of us finally get both feet on the ground and the cord gets pulled almost straight out the gate. But… just… I know it’s hard but don’t blame yourself. This has nothing to do with you, for whatever reason they found to let you go. My CO didn’t say it verbatim, but somewhat implied that this is being done so that the Alliance can completely wash their hands of anything relating to Dad and his AI research.”_

_She kicked a suitcase, “I’m not sure what you’re thinking about… but the plan for me right now is to move back to earth with Mom and Dad. In a rather… surprising twist of events, Dad actually offered to fly here and help me with the move. I think it’s unconscious guilt. But… whatever, nothing like a massive round of layoffs to bring the family closer together, right?”_

_“Oh! One more thing before I let you go. On the last call with Dad, he told me he has some big news regarding Mom that he wants to talk to us about. I think she might have had a breakthrough in her implants! I don’t know, I’m hoping that there’s some sun peaking through all these clouds. We could always use it… but, whatever. This is rock bottom, right? We just need to remind ourselves that there’s no where to go but up, yeah?”_

_“Just… I know you don’t want to talk, but just let me know that you’re okay. Stay strong, Scott. I love you and I’ll be here for whenever you want to talk.” She pressed her fingers to her lips and then against the camera lens before it faded to black._

**VIDEO  0079**

_Jaal wasn’t sure how or why video 79 was taken, but it was just the human and her brother in an unfamiliar, dark bedroom. The male was slumped against her shoulder, his body heaving with anguish. Her arm was over his shoulders, rubbing comforting circles into his back._

_Though she said nothing, the black around her eyes and in her dress said everything._

                It was this video that tore Jaal away from his screen.

                Though he didn’t know what this “L2” mechanism was, he knew what hemorrhaging was and that it appeared to pose a health risk whenever she used her blue magic… and yet, she still used it to protect Avela without so much as a moment’s hesitation.

                Biting his lip nervously, he lifted her chin just enough so that her face greeted him. He prayed she didn’t wake. He had recalled seeing blood during their first encounter, but he hadn’t thought much of it—especially given the fact that he _had_ struck her… However, according to the massive splotch of purple developing on her cheek, the blow had been to the side of her face and no where near her nose… and yet, when he manipulated her head just so, he could see a wall of blood coating the insides of her nostrils.

                Whatever this L2 thing was, he did not approve of it.

                “Dangerous thing.” He whispered in the darkness. She didn’t so much as twitch an eyelid. He repeated himself.

                No answer.

                Staring at that blood, at her serene face… he almost forgot who she was, _what_ she was.

                He was cupping her cheek, drawing her face closer to his… closer, closer, contact. His lips were against the bruise that he knew was his doing. He kissed his apology across the plane of her cheek, nearing her lips.

                Just before he got there, a name drew his attention away.

                No. It wasn’t hers, or his.

                He must have accidentally pressed on his wrist device and started up another video. That name. How could he not know it? He had deliberated on it since the moment he had heard it.

_“Tiran!”_


End file.
